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Z brings boxes downstairs

I’ve hit the gin bottle this evening – which is an entirely good thing. A friend told me, some years ago, that gin is a mood enhancer and, since then, I’ve never risked it when I’m feeling down. Actually though, I think that could always be said about alcohol.

My NZ friend’s visit has galvanised me into activity. I have started turning out another attic. I have a lot of attics, but only two are boarded and suitable for storage, and we dealt with one of them several months ago. Russell had our gardener take a lot of stuff up to the other one, two or three years ago, to my utter dismay when I found out.

I just broke off there to shout “No, no, no, no, no, no” at the tv as I hurried to turn it off. Party election broadcast. UKIP as it happens, but I’m having nothing to do with any of the campaigning, nor the reactions to it. I hate it and I think people are being horrid.

Anyway, darling Weeza is coming over tomorrow to help me, then I have the solicitor again and then supper with Al, Dilly and co. My life will settle, I will cope better than I am now, I am coping all right under the circumstances.

There are newts in the pond! I am thrilled. I love newts even more than frogs, though it’s a close-run thing.

The Unobservant Eye of Z

Dramatis personae:
My husband, Lovely Tim or LT for short (though he is actually tall).
My late husband, the Sage, aka Russell.
My children: Dearest daughter Weeza, who has London Ways, is married to Phil. Their daughter is Zerlina Buttercup and their son is Augustus Bufo. Elder son - Al X, is married to Dilly. Their children are Squiffany Virgilia, Maximus Pugsley and Hadrian Swallow. Younger son - Ro married to Dora and their two-year-old is Rufus Russell.
Big Sister: Wink. She lives in Wiltshire, 230 miles away, but we're much closer than that.
We live with our cat Eloise, a black tortoiseshell half-Ragdoll.
Bantams live in the garden and cats live in the barns but we feed them and they have ambitions to be pets too. In addition, cows come to visit in the summer. Mostly, they stay in the fields. None of them has got a hoof in the door yet.
There is an annexe to the house, where Roses lives and her beloved, Lawrence, spends a lot of time there. Her son, Boy, lives there too.

Z’s blogroll

Updating takes too much memory, sorry - but then I'm not very young any more, so am hanging on to the memory I've got. Please don't look for any significance in the order - I'm not drunk but I am disorderly.

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Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.

Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?